Re la tion ship n 1
by FreeFall Sunsoar
Summary: [Haldir/Eomer] The Lorien Elf and the Rohirrim learn a little about life, love, and the persuit of happiness in Middle Earth


  
Title: [ Re- la - tion - ship n. 1]  
Author : FreeFall SunSoar  
Pairing : Eomer / Haldir, mentions of Eomer/Theodred, Aragorn/Legolas  
Rating : Heavy R … maybe higher later.  
Summary : The Lorien Elf and the Rohirrim learn a little about life, love, and the pursuit of happiness.   
Disclaimers : I do not own LOTR in any way, nor do I claim to. It is the property of JRR Tolkien. Last time I checked, that was not my name. Please don't sue me, you wouldn't get any money anyways. I'm dirt poor.  
Warnings : Slash, Sexual situations, bad language 

Authors Note : I was sifting through the plot bunnies and challenges at the Library of Moria and I came upon to request for a Haldir/Eomer romance. As I have gotten quite fond of that pairing over the past little while, I decided to give it a go. Takes place during and after the battle of Helm's Deep. Will contain equal amounts of light humorous fluff and naughty sex. Haven't decided just how naughty the sex will be, but I'll let you know. 

Chapter One : Meetings.

  
Stab, stab, stab.

Stab. Duck. Stab. Stab, twirly thing, stab.

Shoot.

Stab, stab, stab, stab, duck and twirly thing, duck, duck, goose ...

Goose? [1]

A small, bloody carcass went flying over Haldir's head. Some unfortunate animal had not been locked up properly and had wandered into the battle. A couple of Uruk-hai squabbled over it before the larger of the pair ran the other through and devoured the fowl in two massive bites.

The Lorien Elf suppressed a gag as he narrowly avoided being skewered by a third.

Rain, sweat, dirt and blood had formed this sludge on his face that was constantly oozing into his eyes, nose and mouth; this was easily the filthiest he had ever been in his many years. His muscles ached, racked with effort and strain, and his senses were now operating purely on autopilot. Every thrust of the knife and arrow release was a mechanical thing to him now, as if his body were simply guiding him through the movements.

Haldir pierced the eyes of the goose-eating Uruk-hai, which fell to the ground writhing, and he scowled. 

How long had they been at this now? Far too long, and with no end in sight. It all had this vaguely hopeless feeling to it that did not sit well with him. Had he known just how impossible the odds were, perhaps he would have reconsidered the Lady's request for him to lead this army. No, he couldn't have done that ; his loyalty to Galadriel forbade it. Still, things were not looking good.

Too many had died this night, and many more would follow. He had lead his kin to slaughter in defense of these Men ; the Halls of Mandos would be full by morning.

Haldir nearly tripped over the body of an Elven warrior as he parried an attempted disembowelment. No time for pondering the battle while it still raged about him.

Aragorn, the only Man Haldir had ever known who succeeded in making filthiness attractive, was directing elaborate arm motions at him from the courtyard towards the Keep.

"HALDIR," he managed to bellow over the loud fighting, "FALL BACK TO THE KEEP."

The blond sent him a nod of acknowledgement, and began cutting a path through the Uruk-hai slowly towards his destination. In retrospect it was ridiculous of Aragorn to think he could have gotten all the way to the stupid Keep with the number of enemies swarming around him.

As he dug his long, Elven blades into the neck of particularly ugly Uruk, he made a fatal mistake ; he turned his back. When the knives slipped free from bloody Orc flesh, Haldir felt the hot tear of a Mordor blade cut into his thigh. He hissed through his teeth and fell to his knees. Trying several times to get up, slashing out violently at any Uruk-hai who dared attack him while he was down, Haldir found it was impossible for him to stand. The wound was too deep, too painful.

Some movement caught his eye. A shadow coming from behind him, the unmistakable silhouette of an axe raised in preparation of a strike. This was it. Haldir gazed regretfully at the lifeless, waxy faces of his fallen kin, waiting for the blow that would send him to join them. He had failed these Men, and he had failed those whom he had lead here. Galadriel would surly be disappointed when she heard how Haldir had brought them to slaughter.

His body tensed in preparation for the blow.

Who was that screaming?

As he saw the shadow closing down on him like a viper, he expected searing pain, and the passing to Mandos. What he received was a bath of Uruk-hai blood and a rolling severed head.

"You had prepared yourself to die so easily? I expected more from the legendary Haldir of Lorien."

Aragorn. His filthy savior.

Some Men and the few remaining Elves followed him, and they formed a sort of protective shield around the fallen archer as Aragorn came to his side.

"Come Haldir," he extended a hand towards the injured Elf, "I will not see you die here. We must make for the Keep before it is too late."

More than anything else, Haldir hated to show weakness. He had lived for countless centuries, strong and proud, and now he would need the aid of a mere mortal or he would surely die. It was hard for him to take Aragorn's hand. He hesitated.

"Do not be a prideful fool Haldir," the Ranger barked, anger fringing his words, "I know you do not like to accept help, but so help me if you do not take my hand I will be forced to carry you back like a woman."

The very thought of such a humiliation in front of so many Men and Elves and even Uruk-hai made him shake with near rage. There was no way that he was going to allow this unshaven tramp to carry him like some helpless maiden who had twisted her ankle.

"I cannot stand," he muttered darkly, hoping that the other would not hear but loud enough so he clearly could, "The wound is deep and my leg fails me."

He could have sworn he heard Aragorn snicker as he hoisted the blond to his unsteady feet. All Haldir could do was glare at the Ranger. As fast as he could manage, the Man hauled the Elf towards the Hall while their human shield gave them the appropriate cover.

"You should have left me Aragorn," Haldir said irritably, "I would rather die with my kin than hide in the fortress. This is honorless for me."

Aragorn said nothing, but quickened their pace. Above the battle rang Gamling's voice, shouting for everyone to fall back to the Keep. The Uruk-hai were everywhere, like a flooding black wave that overcame the meager forces of Men and Elves. Everyone was desperately running for the Keep, hoping to out run the horde and their blades.

"FALL BACK TO THE KEEP! RETREAT! RETREAT!"

"I apologize in advance for this Haldir," Aragorn suddenly said as he loosened his grip on the injured Elf.

"What are you -"

Before Haldir could finish his sentence, Aragorn bent down, grabbed him around the waist, and hefted him over his shoulder. The blond was light enough, even in his armor, and the Ranger broke into a mad run to catch up with Legolas and another soldier, who were similarly dragging Gimli. Haldir was outraged.

"You will put me down Aragorn," the Elf hissed, "I am a March Warden of Lothlorien, and I will not be -"

"I will not loose you as well Haldir," Aragorn roared back, fury biting his tone, "Enough have died today. I do not care if I infringe on your damned Elven pride, so shut up and stop struggling. We near the Keep."

For the record, Haldir was still outraged. But he complied with the Man in the face of his wrath, and remained silent as he sprinted them both up the stone ramp way and towards the door of the Keep. Theoden was there, as were Legolas and Gimli, who looked as angry as Haldir felt. But even the Dwarf seemed to realize the importance of the retreat. 

A few dozen soldiers flooded inside the Keep, along with Haldir and Aragorn, until the Uruk-hai were nearly to the door. Theoden ordered the gates shut and barred, trapping them inside the stone fortress until the Uruk-hai broke their way in.

"Put me down," Haldir demanded, and Aragorn set him on the stone floor.

The surviving Men were rushing to reinforce the doors as the intruders attempting to break the door to get at them. The King of Rohan just stood there, dumbfounded as to how his kingdom had to come such ruin, while Aragorn questioned him about a way for the women and children to escape.

Blood was running freely from Haldir's wound, covering much of his leg in a dark, slimy film. He was beginning to feel the effects of the blood loss, something strange and alien to him. In all his years he had never been so heavily wounded, so close to the call of Mandos.

It frightened him.

He was immortal, bound to live forever in beauty and grace. Death had never been something he had thought of, except an occasional pondering with Rumil and Orophin after drinking too much wine, much less something he had ever expected to face. Perhaps all these years had made him ignorant to the fact that Elves could die as easily as Men. 

"Do not despair my friend," Legolas had come to his side at some point, and was ripping cloth from his tattered red cloak, "If we must meet our deaths this night, then we will do it together."

The Mirkwood Prince carefully wrapped the makeshift bandages around Haldir's wound.

"I cannot stand on my own Legolas," he admitted softly, cursing his own weakness, "Aragorn has simply delayed the inevitable for me. When those Uruk-hai break through I will be nothing more than sitting game for them."

Some inappropriate expression grew on the younger Elf's face, and Haldir couldn't decide whether it was amusement or optimistic insanity. Legolas tightened the bandages, and looked over his work with an approving eye.

"The blood flow has stopped for now. Come, let me help you stand Haldir, for I will not have you lay down and give up. What would your Lady say?"

He was up to something.

"You're optimism is sorely misplaced my young prince. Will you stand here and support me when the Uruk-hai come to finish us off? Perhaps we can simply have them all fall to their deaths in hysterics."

Legolas said nothing, but turned his gaze over to Aragorn, who was arguing with Theoden. What was that he was saying? One last ride? What did this Man have planned? Haldir looked to the other Elf questioningly, but all he received was a smile and the cryptic words, "Just watch."

"Yes, yes," Theoden was getting this slightly manic expression on his face, "Let this be the hour in which we draw swords together."

The distant sounds of hooves clattering on stone could be heard, and Haldir could only blink as soldiers began bringing Rohan's finest war horses into the Hall. Twenty five in total, enough for most of those gathered. It was evident that Aragorn hard arranged this in advance. The Men quickly went to their respective mounts.

"Those without horses make to the Caves," the Ranger was shouting orders, "Start moving the women and children to the mountain paths. I do not know how much time you will have, so make as if Sauron himself were at your heels."

He turned to the small group of surviving Elves.

"I did not anticipate your presence my friends, but you have two options before you. Ride with us, or aid in the protection of the children. I am sure that these Men will not object to sharing their saddles."

Snagging the reigns of a nearby brown gelding, he lead the horse in Haldir's direction. Aragorn gave the Elf a wicked grin.

"I have imposed on your dignity, nîn mellon," he began , a serious tone belaying the light expression he wore, "And I will make it up to you now. You may not be able to stand, but I am sure you can ride."

The Elf didn't know what to say.

"We will not wait for them to come to us Haldir. If we go down, we go down proudly, and with honor."

Haldir looked both Aragorn and the horse over with a critical eye. Hesitantly he took the reigns in one hand and stroked the horses neck with the other. Legolas still supported him, but he was now gazing at the Ranger with a considering look.

"I had heard that Rohan bred the finest horses in all of Arda," he said absently, and the horse whinnied softly in response, "Let us hope that this true."

They were both grinning now in a grand display of rather grim stupidity. Gimli the Dwarf made some happy sounding, rumbling noise and raced off into a side corridor. Dwarves on horses rarely did any good, so Haldir presumed he was supposed to be off helping with the evacuation.

"Let me help you into the saddle."

The ever helpful Legolas smiled as he assisted the injured Elf up onto his mount. Pain engulfed his leg like fire, but Haldir forced himself not to complain or show any signs of discomfort. Eventually though the pain subsided into a dull throbbing, and sitting upright was not so bad. When the Mirkwood Prince was satisfied that he was secure in the saddle, he quickly moved off to mount his own horse.

Affectionately he stroked the horse's neck, forming a bond with the creature. After all, he would need the animal to trust him if they were to ride out into that sea of Uruk-hai together. He whispered soft encouragements in Elvish to the horse, who tossed his head lightly and snorted softly in acknowledgement.

Theoden came to the head of the small column of riders, sword in hand and wearing an air of unscathable pride. He would defend this Keep to the end, whether Death awaited him or not. Gamling was at his side, and Aragorn close behind him. Haldir urged his horse a few steps forward to stand beside Legolas' own white one. The doors of the Keep groaned and cracked under the assault of the Uruk-hai's battering ram. It would collapse.

He raised his sword high as the Keep door burst open under the pressure from the Uruk-hai.

"For Theorinden!" He shouted, and all the horsemen took up the cry.

As one they all went forward, charging through the evil hordes of Mordor and Isenguard that fell like child's toys beneath the hooves of the horses. Out into the first rays of pale morning light they rode, cleaving a path through the Uruk-hai down the ramp way. The sound of the great horn rumbled around them inspiringly, and Haldir suddenly realized where Gimli had run off to.

/Still so many,/ Haldir thought dismally as he looked about and readied his bow, /How could we have ever hoped to have a chance?/

The host of riders seemed to have settled into a particular spot on the ramp way, and were now slashing out with swords and knives and pikes. They had a slight advantage on horseback, but it would not hold out forever. But, knowing Aragorn, he probably had yet another plan that the others did not know about.

And, of course, he did.

As they fought against the rushing mass of black, a movement in the distance caught the Elf's eye. With his superior vision he was clearly able to make out someone on top of a magnificent white horse at the top of the valley. Someone familiar with flowing white robes and a long beard.

Gandalf.

All the activity came to a slowdown around him as Men and Uruk-hai looked in the direction of the wizard and his mount, conveniently back lit by the rising sun.

"Eomer!"

The King said the name excitedly when an armored Man suddenly appeared at Gandalf's side. Haldir looked briefly at Theoden before his attention was rerouted by an Uruk-hai.

"ROHIRRIM!" the Elf heard a voice echoing through the valley, "TO THE KING!"

A great thundering of hooves followed, and Haldir wasn't quite sure, but he thought his heart might have stopped in his chest when he saw some two thousand Riders of Rohan charging down the hill to join the battle. They were saved. Gandalf was at the head and as they rode towards the Uruk-hai, who were ready to greet the new arrivals with rows of long pikes, and he raised his staff high.

The light of the sun would have blinded him had he not shielded his eyes. The Uruk-hai, who were not so lucky, cried out in agony. The Rohirrim descended upon them like a wave of death, turning the tide of battle drastically in their favour in a matter of minutes.

Legolas and Aragorn were now riding to fight alongside the wizard, calling for him to join them. Feeling slightly overwhelmed by their sudden fortune, he took the time to stab out the eyes of an Uruk that was trying to steal his horse out from under him, then began working his way towards them. 

He also allowed himself a smile.

For an hour or so more they fought against the forces of Mordor, until the overwhelmed Uruk-hai turned to flee. The Rohirrim chased down as many of them as they could, but several hundred escaped into the surrounding countryside. Whether or not they would live through Sauron's wrath didn't concern any of the Helm's Deep occupants.

When the last of them had disappeared, Haldir could only just keep himself from slumping against the neck of his horse, whom he would have treated like royalty when it was all over. If it were not for the bravery and intelligence of the animal they would have both been skewered by orcish swords. His leg was beyond painful, open wounds stung in the morning air, and his whole body was so racked with weariness he was ready to collapse right there amongst all those corpses.

But he wouldn't. If Aragorn and Legolas could still hold themselves upright and dignified, then he could as well.

The Man in question was now shouting out orders to the riders in conjunction with Theoden, who were quick to carry them out. Those three were huddled together with Gandalf and the Rohirrim who had ridden there with him. Eomer if he remembered correctly.

"Haldir of Lorien," Gandalf nodded in greeting to the Elf when he rode to join them, "Too long has it been since our paths have crossed."

Perhaps rode was to strong a word. It was more like he guided the horse towards them, using his knees because the reins were too much effort and his hands were otherwise occupied with blades.

"Gandalf," he replied diplomatically, doing his best to look like his body didn't feel like a fine paste, "It has been many years since you last graced the Golden Woods. The Lady was deeply grieved to hear of your … passing. She will be well to learn you have survived."

"Yes, I offer my apologies to Galadriel that I was not able to meet her with the Fellowship, but I am certain she understood what had happened. I will confess though that I am surprised she had sent you here."

"It was Lord Elrond's doing mostly," the Elf explained casually, "He could not just abandon these Men to their deaths, and it was agreed to send a host of Galadrim to assist them. We are here in honor of the old allegiances."

"You aid was most welcome," Legolas interjected, still with a grin on his face; did that Elf never stop smiling? "It lightened my heart to have you here during these dark times."

"The times will only grow darker," Gandalf said, his tone becoming grave, "Sauron's vengeance will be swift, his retribution, terrible. And all our hopes now lie in the hands of two Hobbits somewhere in the wilderness."

"How long will we have until Sauron launches another attack?" the one Haldir presumed to be Eomer asked the wizard morosely.

"It will take him some time to add numbers to his surviving hoard, but not much. A month maybe, or six weeks. But let us not speak of this now. There are many wounded, and many more dead. We must see to the battle field."

Theoden nodded in agreement. "We have suffered much loss tonight, and all of our hearts will be severely grieved. Funeral services must be arranged, mourning properly observed," he paused and looked at Haldir, "I do not know what customs you have for honoring your dead, so tell me what you wish us to do for your fallen kin."

A thoughtful look passed over the Elf's face as he considered this matter. "I would say to have them sent back to Lothlorien, but we have neither the time or the resources."

How then, would the bodies be dealt with? The thought of funeral arrangements had never crossed his mind until now. His brow furrowed in contemplation, until an idea suddenly struck him.

"On our march here we passed a large copse of trees. I believe that it would be a suitable resting place for my departed brethren. About a mile from here, near a great hill and a stream."

"Yes, I know the spot of which you speak," Eomer interjected, "It is a beautiful area, particularly in the summer time. A worthy place of rest for your people."

The Elf gave the young Rohirrim a sidelong glance, coupled with the slightest of smiles. He suddenly found himself wondering what that massive, gaudy helmet was covering up underneath.

"Then so it shall be done," Theoden agreed readily, "I will make the arrangements for the bodies of the Elves to be taken there. Perhaps you would like to go there yourself to examine the sight beforehand. Eomer could escort you, since he seems to know the area you are thinking of."

"It would be my honor," Eomer added in instantly, "You and your Elves were here when I should have been, and I owe you a debt."

"You owe me nothing young horseman. I did not come here to gain favours or to show you up. But I will welcome your escort if you wish to give it."

It was difficult to gauge Eomer's reaction because of that dreadful helmet, but Haldir thought he saw a slight reddening in his cheeks. And then, as if the Man was reading his mind, he removed the helmet to reveal one of the most beautiful faces Haldir had ever seen on another male. Dark, inviting eyes, tangled blond hair - quite enchanting.

"Then I will give it to you," Eomer answered with a smile, "But I will make up for the sacrifice your Elves have made."

"If you wish."

By Elbereth, he even had perfect teeth. Somewhere, in Haldir's mind, there was a voice that was telling him that this was not the appropriate time to be considering the beauty of strangers. Still, he found himself wondering how long it had been since he'd taken a Man as a lover before Legolas interrupted his thoughts.

"I would like to join you as well, if you do not mind," he said, "I would make me happy to see this beautiful place after so much needless death."

"You are always welcome my Prince," Haldir replied smoothly, "But I fear I must have this wound attended too before we go anywhere. I have ignored it long enough."

This was his subtle way of telling them that he wanted to get off of the battle field and to lie down somewhere for five minutes. It was becoming more difficult for him not to make any verbal complaints about his aching leg, and he did not want them to know just how much pain he was in. He had his pride after all.

"Come then, let us see to the wounded," Aragorn had his 'in-charge' voice on, "We have much work to do today, and in the coming days."

There was a round of sullen agreement, and the small party then began making it's way back to the Keep. Haldir kept stealing little glances at the dashing young Rohirrim, despite the fact that Legolas talked his ear off the entire short trip. Eomer said nothing to him, as he talked with Theoden and Aragorn, but the Elf was triumphant in the fact that he kept looking back at him as well.

Perhaps things were not as bad as he thought they would be.

  
******  
TBC  
******

[1] Okay, so I couldn't resist a stupid opening joke. I'm weak.

More Notes : Ah Haldir, the sexiest corpse this side of the Mark. Obviously I couldn't have him killed off if he was the star of the story. But he shouldn't have died anyways … *WEEP* … Anyways, hope that you've enjoyed this first chapter, more will be coming in about a week or so. In the next chapter, Eomer, Haldir and Legs go to check out this burial sight, and the Rohirrim shares a few fond memories with the Elves.

Comments and constructive criticism can be sent to freefall_sunsoar@hotmail.com. I like getting responses. Please let me know what you think  



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